


The Red Wolf and Silver Dragon

by Artemis_Lance



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, If Sansa had gone to Dragonstone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-14 21:16:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18484519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Lance/pseuds/Artemis_Lance
Summary: Queen Daenerys has requested Jon Snow come bend the knee to her at Dragonstone. Instead he sends his sister, Sansa Stark. At Dragonstone Sansa must convince Daenerys and her advisors that the undead are real and they are coming for the kingdom.





	1. Chapter I

            Sansa sat with her back straight, worry curling in her chest as she waited to find out what Jon had called the meeting with his banners for. Had there been news of the White Walkers? Was Cersei planning an attack on the North? Was the Dragon Queen? Endless possibilities swirled through her head, each one of them worse than the last. However, she knew that she could prepare for any of them. She had survived many things, and she would survive many more, no matter what Jon had to say next.

            Her eyes were drawn up to Jon as he held a scroll in his hand, clearly the cause for this meeting. “This message was sent to me by Samwell Tarly. He was my brother at the Nights Watch. A man I trust as much as anyone in this world. He’s discovered proof that Dragonstone sits on a mountain of Dragon glass.”

            A rumbling began in the crowd but was quieted as Jon withdrew a new scroll from beneath is cloak, “I received this a few days ago, from Dragonstone. It was sent to me by Tyrion Lannister. He is now Hand of the Queen to Daenerys Targaryen. She intends to take the Iron Throne from Cersei Lannister; she has a powerful army at her back and if this message is to be believed three dragons.” More rumbling began to take over the hall, but Jon ignored it and went on, “Lord Tyrion has invited me to Dragonstone to meet with Daenerys.”

            Sansa tried to keep her face expressionless as she knew what Jon was to say next. Turning around he looked her in the eyes as he declared, “And I’m going to accept.”

            The hall was now awash with the unrest of the bannerman, but Sansa paid them no mind. She fought back the urge to stand and yell at Jon about just how stupid he was being, taking in a breath until the urge had passed. He looked about ready to turn around and argue with his men but before he could do so Sansa spoke out. “We need the Dragon glass, that much is true,” she started, “But we also need our King to remain in Winterfell so that he can prepare for our oncoming enemy. We can’t have him going South to speak with an unknown Queen, we all know how Northerners fair down there.”

            Jon’s eyes blazed with anger as she argued with him in front of his bannermen once again. But she did not care, if he did not heed council then he was just as bad as Cersei. Rulers needed someone to advise them and the sooner Jon got that through his head the better. “Then what would you advise we do then, Lady Stark?” He shot back lips curling as he spoke, the same as father’s did when he was trying to contain his anger. “Send an advisor?”

            She kept her voice even and cool, “That’s exactly what you should do. Send someone you trust to Dragonstone; someone you know will not try to bend the knee to this new Queen. Someone who will convey just how vital it is that she allow us to mine her island of the dragon glass it contains. But I deplore you to not make the hasty decision to go yourself, for the people of the North need you to remain here.”

            Jon’s expression remained like stone as the bannerman around us nodded and spoke their consent. He took in a deep breath, eyes darting to the sides to take in the hall’s reaction to Sansa’s advice. “You make a fair argument,” Jon acquiesced. Sansa prepared for the but that was sure to follow but was surprised when it never came. “So, I shall send you, my trusted sister, advisor, and Lady of Winterfell to speak with Tyrion and Queen Daenerys. Does anyone have an objection to this?” When the hall remained, silent Jon turned back to me, “Then it is decided, you shall ride out to sail and see the Queen at first light tomorrow.”

***

            Sansa mechanically packed her things into a small chest, small enough that she could carry it herself if need be. She was no longer a silly little girl who needed all her dresses to impress the Southerners, she just packed the necessities. However, she could not help but fear that the same fate that befell her the first time she travelled South would repeat itself. Would the Dragon Queen take her hostage like Cersei did? Try to marry her off to take control of the North? She had Ser Davos, Brienne, and Podrick accompanying her on the journey, but last time she went South she had her father’s guards and yet she still was not safe.

             A knock sounded from her door and Sansa paused in folding one of her lighter dresses, “Come in,” she called out.

            A moment later Jon entered, his first appearance since he had declared that she was to go South. “How is the packing coming?” He asked lightly.

            “Nearly done,” Sansa replied, turning back to finish folding the dress and placing it upon the stack in the chest.

            “You were right back there,” he started, “It was foolish of me to think that I should go meet with Tyrion and Daenerys, I realize that now.”

            Sansa couldn’t stop the small smirk from slipping out, “Did you figure that out yourself or did someone make you see that?”

            Jon chuckled and took a seat at Sansa’s table, “Ser Davos gave me a piece of his mind after the meeting.” He picked up Sansa’s seal and turned it in his hands, “I know that I need to listen to my advisors more, listen to _you_ more. I should have come to you before I called the bannerman, should have hashed out the details with you first. I should have asked if you wanted to go South first, I can imagine how hard this is for you.” Sansa stilled, staring down at her chest as she listened, “But I think I made the right decision in the end. You are much more adept at politics than I am, probably more than I ever will be. I have faith that you will be able to convince the Queen to aide us in our fight against the army of the undead.”

            “But what if I’m not able to?” Sansa argued, spinning, “What if I go and she thinks that the White Walkers are nothing but myth? What if she takes me prisoner? What then?”

            Jon sat back in his seat, “Tyrion will be there, and from what you told me he has always been kind to you. I don’t think he would allow his new Queen to keep you prisoner as his family once did.”

             Sansa nodded, they both knew there was no guarantee that Daenerys would let her go once she was there, but she had to go anyway. “Before I go, I must warn you not to trust Littlefinger. Him and his forces from the Vale may have helped us win the Battle of the Bastards, but that does not mean he is our ally.” Jon’s brows furrowed, but Sansa went on, “He likes to hold the strings of everything, and I haven’t yet figured out what he wants from us, but whatever it is cannot be good.” Sansa considered telling him about what he had done to Lyssa but feared that Jon would act rashly.

            Before Jon could question her on Littlefinger there was another knock at her door. Sansa called for the person to enter and a moment later Brienne slipped into the room. “My grace, my Lady,” she spoke as she bowed her head in greeting.

            Sansa smiled, always happy to see the knight. “What can we do for you, Brienne?”

            “I would like to speak to you about Littlefinger,” Brienne spoke with distaste, “He is insisting that he accompany Lady Stark to Dragonstone.”

            Jon stood, “I will go speak with him, convince him that there is no reason for him to go.”

            “He is not an easy man to convince,” Sansa said bitterly.

            Jon nodded solemnly, “Then I will tell him that his King needs him here, it’ll be interesting to try and see him get out of that one.” He walked over to Sansa pulling her into a strong hug. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her head in his shoulder. “This is not the last time we will see each other. Return soon, Sansa.”

            “I will, and you listen to your advisors Jon.” He let out a laugh before squeezing her once and releasing her and leaving the room.

            Sansa turned to Brienne, who was looking towards the fire, giving Jon and her their moment. “Is there anything else, Brienne?”

            She snapped to attention, straightening her posture. “No, everything is nearly packed and ready for our departure.” She hesitated for a moment before adding, “I can’t say that I’m too pleased that you have to be the one to go to Dragonstone, Lady Stark.”

            Sansa nodded, “I can’t say that I am either, but if we are to win the Great War, we need the dragon glass and maybe even the aid of this new Queen.”


	2. Chapter II

            It took a little over three weeks but finally Sansa and her entourage had arrived at Dragonstone. Sansa was glad that she did not have a weak stomach, the same could not be said for Podrick. Sansa felt bad for the boy, who spent nearly all his time with his head over the deck. Unlike poor Podrick, Sansa was glad for the long journey as it gave her the time to run through the different scenarios that could occur when they reached their destination. She felt ready to face just about anything that could be thrown at her. _Not everything_ , she reminded herself. One must not think they are cleverer than everyone else. She’d learned that from her father who thought himself to be safe in his alliances; Cersei had been one step ahead of him then because he believed he had planned for everything. Sansa would not make the same mistake. She would be confident, but also wary. Ready for everything but prepared for the unexpected.

            She was pulled from her musings as the dinghy hit sand. The rowers jumped from the small boat and began to push it the extra few feet up the beach. Awaiting Sansa and her group on was Tyrion, an unknown woman, and a group of Dothraki guards. Next to her Brienne stood and disembarked from the boat, holding her hand out to aid Sansa out. Sansa stepped onto the beach gingerly and held onto Brienne for a moment longer as she allowed her body to adjust to being on land for the first time in weeks.

            When she felt she wouldn’t trip over herself she released Brienne’s hand and strode forward to meet her former husband. “Lady Sansa,” he said, bowing his head slightly towards her, “I am pleased to see you again, though I believe it was your brother I requested here.

            Sansa smiled, “Regrettably my brother could not make it, so he sent me to represent the North.”

            Tyrion’s lips pressed in a line as he searched for what Sansa presumed was a tactful response to say that she was not the person that they wanted. Instead he just nodded, “Very well.”

He turned his attention to Sansa’s companions and Sansa began to make the necessary introductions, “Lord Tyrion, with me I bring Ser Davos Seaworthy, advisor to my brother, and Brienne of Tarth, my protector.” This time a true smile slipped onto Sansa’s face, “Along with Podrick Payne, who squires for Brienne.”

Tyrion gasped as Podrick stepped forward from where he was half-hidden behind Brienne’s height. “Pod! Look at how you’ve grown! A man now.” Tyrion stepped forward and the two grasped arms, both smiling in delight at being reunited.

The two shared a few more words before Tyrion turned his attention back to her. He gestured to the women standing to his side, who had been eyeing Sansa during the introductions made, assessing her. “Missandei is the Queen’s most trusted advisor.”

            The women gave a nod of her head, a smile slipping onto her face. “Welcome to Dragonstone, our Queen knows this is a long journey. She appreciates the efforts you have made on her behalf. If you wouldn’t mind handing over your weapons.”

            Sansa wasn’t surprised, turning to glance back at Brienne and Ser Davos. They both looked skeptical to do as asked, but Sansa nodded her assent and they began to strip off their swords and daggers. The Dothraki stepped forward to rid them of their weapons, then placing them within their dinghy and hefting it up to take away.

            Missandei turned towards the stairs, “Please, right this way.”

            Sansa began forward, eventually falling into step with Tyrion at some point along the way. “I’m glad to see that you made it back to Winterfell safely, my Lady.”

            Sansa glanced over at her former husband, “I wouldn’t say I made it there safely.”

            Tyrion grimaced, “My apologies, my Lady. I heard rumors that you were married to the Bolton bastard, but I must admit I don’t know much of the details.”

            “There’s not much to tell,” Sansa said lightly, wary to say too much about her time with Ramsay. “Another forced marriage however this husband was not as kind to me as the first. Ramsay is gone now, having paid for his crimes against me and my family.”

            Tyrion paused in his step and she was sure that his face was one of pity, but she paid it no heed and continued. “I would very much like it if at some point if we could talk in private, share stories about how we each escaped from King’s Landing after my nephews’ unfortunate demise.”

She was just turning the corner, ready to comment about how Joffrey’s death was anything but unfortunate when a loud screeching tore through the air, causing her to jump. She craned her neck to look up at the skies, hoping to glance the dragon that surely caused the noise. But as she was beginning to turn a hard body plowed into hers, causing her to fall to the ground. A pain shot through her arm as Brienne covered Sansa’s body with her own. A moment later a loud whooshing sound vibrated the air around them and Sansa saw the claws of the dragon’s feet as it whizzed by them.

            Brienne rolled away from Sansa, “Are you alright my Lady?”

            Sansa nodded, choosing not to comment on her throbbing arm. “I’d say that you get used to them,” Tyrion spoke, holding out his hand to help Sansa up, “But I’d be lying.”

***

            The moment they entered the room Sansa’s eyes were immediately drawn to the large thrown carved from rock. Sitting atop it was the Queen, one of the most beautiful people that Sansa had ever seen. Her silvery blonde hair was pulled back at the top with the sides spilling down in waves. She seemed short, but Sansa couldn’t tell if she really was or if it was because of the size of the throne she sat upon. From this distance she couldn’t tell her eye color, but she could feel her unrestrained anger, clearly displeased that the King in the North had not headed her request.

            At one-point Sansa would have been dazzled by this beautiful woman, done anything to gain her favor. Just as she had done with Joffrey, Cersei, and eventually Margaery. But she had grown and learned that beautiful people hid some of the darkest secrets and most despicable intentions. She would not let this new Queen’s beauty and grace blind her like she had when younger.

            “You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals, and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.” Throughout Missandei’s introduction of the Queen Sansa maintains unrelenting eye contact with her, unwilling to show any type of submission.

            She heard Brienne take a step forward, “Before you stands Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell, Sister to the King in the North.”

            The Queen clasped her hands in her lap, “Thank you for travelling so far, my Lady. I hope the seas weren’t too rough.”

            The Queen’s tone was pleasant, but Sansa knew that the women was unhappy. “The seas were kind to us, your Grace.” Without waiting for the question that was sure to come Sansa continued, “I know that you requested the presence of my brother, but he sent me in his stead.”

            “Lady Stark, the last King in the North, Tormund Stark, bent the knee and swore an oath to my ancestors. I presume that you have come to do the same for your brother?”

            Sansa knew that she needed to tread carefully from here, respecting the Queen but also making it clear that she would not bend the knee, and neither would Jon. “Forgive me your Grace, but even as Lady of Winterfell I cannot bend the knee for the King in the North. The Northerners chose him to lead, not I.”

            Daenerys nostrils flared, “Your brother may be the supposed King in the North, but you are the last known Stark alive. Bend the knee to me and I will make you Wardness to the North.”

            Sansa paused, never had a Ward of any kingdom been a woman. But she supposes, neither had the Seven Kingdoms been run by a Queen. But now it had two women trying to do so, a Wardness was not much of jump. “Your Grace,” she spoke carefully, wary of the famous Targaryen temper, “Your offer is a generous one, but I am loyal to my brother and I must decline. The North has been through much the last few years and desire a Northern leader, someone they know and trust.”

            Daenerys stood suddenly from her throne, “They know and trust you, so bend the knee as your ancestors did and you shall watch over the North.”

            This was going in a direction that Sansa knew would spiral out of control if allowed to go on much further. “Your Grace, I know that you are trying to reclaim the throne from Cersei. I hope you succeed. From the stories I have heard you will be much fairer to the common folk and those around you than she ever was. But the North is not yet ready to swear fealty to someone that they do not know. They are a stubborn group and it will take time to win them over. Time, however, is something none of us have. There is a threat looming north of the wall, a threat greater than the war being waged over the seven kingdoms.”

             Before Daenerys could speak, Tyrion stepped forward, “What threat do you speak of?”

            This, Sansa knew, is where she was going to lose them. She could barely comprehend the threat herself, but she believed in Jon. He was as honest as their father and if he claims that the White Walkers and the undead were real, then she believed him. But Daenerys doesn’t know Jon as she does, and she can’t expect her to believe in a woman she’s never met. Her only hope is in Tyrion, who knows that Jon and Sansa are honorable people, that they would not lie about this. Hopes that he knows Sansa is smart enough not to potentially become prisoner of another Queen without good reason.

            “The army of the undead, they march upon the wall with hundreds of thousands in their ranks. My brother has seen them himself, slain some too. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms must prepare, because soon they will reach the wall. The Nights Watch is not as mighty as it once was, even with the wildlings that they have added to their ranks. It is more than likely that they will not be able to stop the undead from crossing into the North.”

            “I was born at Dragonstone. Not that I can remember it.” Daenerys slowly advances on Sansa, “We fled before Robert's assassins could find us. Robert was your father's best friend, no? I wonder if your father knew his best friend sent assassins to murder a baby girl in her crib. Not that it matters now of course. I spent my life in foreign lands. So many men have tried to kill me. I don't remember all of their names. I have been sold like a brood mare. I have been chained and betrayed, raped and defiled. Do you know what kept me standing through all those years in exile? Faith. Not in any gods. Not in myths and legends. In myself. In Daenerys Targaryen. The world hadn't seen a dragon in centuries until my children were born. The Dothraki hadn't crossed the sea. Any sea.” Daenerys comes to a stop in front of Sansa, “They did for me. I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms. And I will.”

            “Your Grace, you speak of your dragons; you say they were though to be dead for centuries. Yet dragons roam the skies again, just as the undead march upon us. White walkers are a myth in the same way your dragons are. I know it is hard to believe, but I implore you to listen to me. I didn’t have to come here; I had no intention of bending the knee. I could have stayed in Winterfell where I was safe, yet I came to Dragonstone. I came here knowing full well that I could become prisoner to yet another Queen. I did all this because my brother has been past the wall, he has fought the army of the undead, as have the Night watch and free folk. The threat is real, and it is coming for us and we must all prepare for it, or we will be doomed.”

The room was silent as they all soaked in this information, casting glances back at each other. Finally, Daenerys spoke up, “You’re right, you had no reason to come here if you did not intend to bend the knee. So why are you truly here, Lady Sansa?”

            “The undead can only be killed three ways, your Grace. Valerian steel, fire, and dragon glass are their only weaknesses. A brother at the nights watch is at the citadel and found information that the caves of Dragonstone contain dragon glass. My true purpose for coming here was to plead with you to let us mine the dragon glass so that we can arm as many people of the Seven Kingdom’s with it so that they could protect themselves.” She knew this was a long shot, seven hells if she was Daenerys, she would never believe all this talk of the undead.

Tyrion comes to stand next to the Queen, “The war against my sister has already begun. You can’t expect us to halt hostilities and join you in fighting whatever you think is beyond the wall.”

            “My brother wants for you to join our cause, but I know that is asking too much with the war against Cersei. So, I plead with you to let us mine the dragon glass, to let us defend the North from the dead.”

            Behind her the doors open, causing everyone to turn as Varys, the spider, enters the room. No one had mentioned that he had turned sides, but Sansa keeps the shock off her face as best she can. Varys walks up to Daenerys and begins speaking to her in a foreign tongue. A moment later her expression goes from anger to void of emotion as she turns back to Sansa with a false smile. “You must forgive my manners. You will both be tired after your long journey. We'll have baths drawn for you and supper sent to your rooms.”

            With that Daenerys strode from the room. Sansa didn’t have to ask if she was a prisoner, she wouldn’t be leaving Dragonstone until the dragon Queen said so.


End file.
